


arrow

by pearlilly



Series: seasons [7]
Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Valentine's Day, it looks cute now but just wait, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:20:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlilly/pseuds/pearlilly
Summary: in which Fallon and Kirby celebrate Valentine's Day.
Relationships: Kirby Anders & Fallon Carrington, Kirby Anders/Fallon Carrington
Series: seasons [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512317
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

Kirby and Fallon’s relationship only seemed to flourish in the weeks that followed, given that they still largely had the manor to themselves. Michael was solely working with the _Atlantix_ now, and his larger salary had enabled him to get a nice loft in Centennial Park to be closer to the team. He hadn’t asked Fallon for advice in weeks - he seemed to be really getting a handle on his new position. 

Liam had returned to New York; since Fallon had ghosted him, he’d seemed to get the hint and hadn’t pressed any further. Last Fallon had heard, he was shacking up with Ashley again, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as much as she might’ve in the past. In any case, she was sure that Laura was thrilled. 

Sam had returned from South America but was living at the hotel, only returning to the manor to collect mail that he refused to forward. Fallon had repeatedly invited him to take whatever he wanted from Steven’s room, but he declined, a pained look in his eye whenever she brought it up. Unable to enter the room herself, she just directed Martha and Rebecca to keep up with the weekly cleaning schedule, telling herself that it needed to be ready for Steven when he came home. _If_ he came home. 

Whenever Fallon spoke to Blake, he always seemed in a hurry - meetings, conference calls, appointments. Fallon knew he’d never say as much, but Steven’s absence had clearly taken a toll on him, too. He seemed to be dealing with it by _not_ dealing with it, instead making the recently purchased second home in Savannah his and Cristal’s primary residence and insisting that Adam move in, too. Fallon understood it - she couldn’t blame Blake for wanting to pursue a relationship with his remaining son - but she wished that it didn’t have to come at the expense of her relationship with her father. Though she hated to admit as much, she still longed for his approval.

Pained as they both were at the increasing fracture of their families, the girls made short work of finding solace in each other. It only took about a week after New Year’s for Kirby to start sleeping in Fallon’s room, and only another for them to start _sleeping_ together. Fallon was certain the staff had picked up on it, especially Mrs. Gunnerson. Kirby had only been sleeping in her room for two days before Fallon’s breakfast tray magically sprouted an extra plate. She’d been working for the Carringtons since before Adam was born, and while nothing escaped her notice, Fallon knew her sense of propriety ran deep. She wouldn’t say anything to Blake. 

February dawned, cold and clear, and although Kirby kept wearing her pajamas backward and sleeping with a spoon under her pillow, it hadn’t snowed again. The cold was enough to keep them out of the sunroom, though, and continue their morning coffee and croissant ritual in Fallon’s room, safely tucked in a nest of silk sheets and heated blankets and forehead kisses. Sometimes they stayed in bed all day - Fallon had purchased them each a lap desk for the purpose - filling out paperwork, sending emails, drinking tea, and not _saying_ much of anything, just quietly enjoying the warmth of each other’s company.

When Valentine’s Day came, Fallon woke easily thanks to the silent alarm on her Fitbit, vibrating insistently against her wrist until she opened her eyes. She quickly pressed the button on the side to shut it off. Gently shifting Kirby out of her arms, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the door. She eased it open, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure that Kirby was still asleep before stealing down to the kitchen. 

The bouquet of roses she’d ordered stood in a crystal vase on the island, and the bottle of Dom Perignon she’d requested to use in their mimosas sat beside it, chilling in an ice bucket. It was only 7am, so Fallon wasn’t sure when Mrs. Gunnerson would have had the time to set it up, but she’d clearly done it early - the bottle was already frosty, the ice cubes barely beginning to melt. 

Fallon grabbed their usual breakfast tray and set about carefully maneuvering the ice bucket and vase onto it, but the items took up so much room that she was forced to select a larger silver one instead. Ornately engraved with the Carrington coat of arms - which Blake had paid some distant English cousin to grant him rights to - it was much more garish than anything Fallon would’ve liked for today, but it was her only option. Sighing, she snatched a placemat from the butler’s pantry and lined the tray with it. There, that looked better. She settled the ice bucket and vase of roses onto the new tray, then added two china plates, a basket of pastries, and a carafe of orange juice. Carefully hefting the tray into her hands, she left the kitchen and went back upstairs. 

“Kirby?” Fallon nudged the door open with her foot and carried the tray into her room, setting it on the chest at the foot of her bed. 

Kirby was still entangled in the sheets, her body completely covered by a quilt - Fallon might not have known she was there were it not for the strands of bright red hair strewn across her pillow. 

“Kirby.” 

“Mmph.” She tucked the quilt under her chin and nuzzled deeper into her pillow.

Fallon chuckled and crossed to the windows, pulling the curtains aside with an exaggerated sweeping motion so that light flooded the room. 

Kirby winced, pulling a throw pillow over her face. “Noooo.”

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?” Kirby yawned. 

“Almost seven-thirty.”

“That’s the middle of the night!” Kirby whined. “Come back to bed.”

“Quit complaining and open your eyes. You’re ruining your Valentine’s Day surprise.”

At the word ‘surprise’ Kirby immediately perked up. She peeled the duvet back and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I like surprises.”

Fallon crossed over to her, picking the tray up and carefully setting it in her lap before crawling back into bed beside her. 

“All this is for me?” Kirby asked, her eyes sparkling as she took in the display of flowers and champagne. 

“Well, I thought we’d share the pastries and mimosas, but everything else is for you.” Fallon leaned in to press a soft kiss to Kirby’s temple. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kirby.”

“Thank you, Fallon. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know, but grand romantic gestures are sort of my thing.”

Kirby just laughed and shook her head, turning to kiss Fallon’s cheek. “Well, thank you, anyway.”

“You’re welcome.” Fallon picked up the carafe of orange juice and set about mixing them each a mimosa. “This is just a little something for this morning, I have something else planned for tonight.”

“Oh really?” Kirby asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

Fallon playfully swatted her arm as she handed over her glass. _“_ Yes, for _dinner.”_

Kirby took the glass and tried to seem disappointed. “Oh.”

“You know, if you want to pout, I can eat all those pastries myself…”

Kirby squealed as Fallon reached for a _pain au chocolat,_ swatting her hand away so aggressively that Fallon sloshed champagne all down her front. 

“Kirby!” Fallon scolded, flicking the moisture away with the side of her hand. “This is Dom Perignon, it’s for drinking, not wearing.”

Kirby had the grace to look at least a little abashed, taking a cloth napkin from the tray and helping Fallon dry herself off. “Sorry.”

Noticing how her hand lingered, Fallon looked pointedly at the napkin and then at Kirby’s face, smirking slightly. “Was all of that just an excuse to touch me?”

The other woman flushed slightly and dropped her hand. “Maybe.”

Fallon couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, we still have a little time before that ice melts,” she noted, casually depositing the tray onto the nightstand and tucking a finger under Kirby’s chin so she could tilt it up to kiss her. “Let’s make the most of it.”

As she leaned in to kiss Kirby again, she could feel her smiling against her lips and felt an odd swelling of emotion in her chest, like she was almost overwhelmed by affection for her. “Honey, I--”

Kirby pulled away, looking concerned. “Yeah?”

“Nothing,” Fallon replied quickly, horrified at how easily the words _‘I love you’_ had nearly fallen out of her mouth. She smiled reassuringly, gently tucking a strand of Kirby’s hair behind her ear for her. 

Kirby looked like she was about to continue questioning her, but then Fallon leaned in and kissed her again, much more decisively than the last one, and any protests that had been lingering on her tongue faded away. As she pulled her in and deepened the kiss, Kirby’s earlier annoyance at having been woken before 11am quickly dissipated, and Fallon’s near-miss was mercifully all but forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

After finishing their pastries and mimosas, Fallon collected the empty tray and ice bucket and put them outside her door, closing and locking it firmly. As she crossed back over to the bed, she saw that Kirby had tipped back against her pillows, Montgomery tucked firmly under her chin. It was barely 8am, but full of champagne and croissants, Kirby's eyelids were starting to droop, and now that the adrenaline had finally dissipated, Fallon found that she was more than a little drowsy herself. 

"You want to go back to sleep for a while?" She asked Kirby gently, standing expectantly on the rug beside the bed. 

"Mhm." Kirby yawned and rubbed her eyes, looking far more adorable than Fallon had bargained for. She felt a familiar surge of affection rise in her stomach and had to bite her lip to keep from making the same mistake she had barely an hour earlier. 

"Okay," she said instead, choosing her words carefully. "We don't have plans until later, so let's do that."

"'Kay."

Fallon chuckled to herself and crossed back over to the window, squinting against the brilliant sunlight as she tugged the drapes back into place. The room fell into comfortable, shaded darkness again, and Fallon yawned in spite of herself as she shuffled over and perched on her side of the bed.

The champagne had been stronger than she'd realized - she could feel her head getting fuzzy, the alcohol seeping deeper into her bloodstream as she kicked off her slippers and discarded her dressing gown. Normally, the feeling would've been comforting, but despite her fatigue, she could feel her heart beginning to race; her mind screaming at her to blurt out the words she'd been trying so hard to restrain. 

Fallon shook her head, trying to rid herself of the intrusive thoughts as she slipped into bed to lay back down beside Kirby. She tucked the duvet over them both, pulling the redhead back against her chest to spoon her. Kirby leaned her head against Fallon's collarbone, and as her hand found hers, Fallon felt her heart rate finally beginning to slow. She nestled her head deeper into her pillow - she'd feel much better after their nap. 

* * *

It felt like Fallon had only just closed her eyes when Kirby was shaking her awake.

“Fallon.  _ Fallon.” _

Fallon turned over to face her, opening one bleary eye. “Mmph. What?”

“I’m sorry, I tried to let you sleep, but your phone has been ringing nonstop for like twenty minutes.”

“Work phone or my phone?” Fallon yawned, closing her eyes again and pressing her face deeper into the down pillow. Just a few more minutes…

“Work.”

Fallon opened her eyes, immediately wide awake. It was almost an unconscious, Pavlovian response at this point; that one word could instantly pull her from personal matters and set her thoughts back into the professional, razor-sharp mindset that Blake had engrained into her since she was small. Like he always said, the business and the family were irrevocably intertwined, and Fallon’s sense of loyalty ran deep - she couldn’t ignore this call even if she wanted to. Right now, she  _ desperately  _ wanted to.

“What time is it?” She asked, her tone crisp and to the point as she peeled back the duvet and headed into the closet. 

“It’s almost eleven,” Kirby called. 

Fallon rifled through her closet, selecting a high-necked silk blouse and an impeccably tailored pair of pinstriped pants. She perched on the tufted bench that ran the length of the closet, stripping off her pajamas and discarding them on the floor.

“How many times did they call?” She asked. One of the hooks on her bra caught in a tangle at the back of her head. Swearing under her breath, she winced as she gave it a sharp tug and wrenched it free.

“Um… maybe five?”

“Shit.” 

Now fully clothed, Fallon snatched a little-worn pair of Tieks from her shoe rack, tugging them on as she gathered a pair of heels into a tote bag to take with her. She stood up, catching sight of herself in the mirror at the end of the closet. She hadn’t been planning on going into work today, and she certainly looked like it - her hair had collected into natural waves, and there wasn’t a stitch of makeup on her face. She wished she’d had time to shower. 

Charging out of the closet, Fallon dropped the tote bag on the cedar chest at the end of her bed. She was about to turn into her en suite - she had to do something with her hair if she was going to see any business associates today - but a glance at Kirby made her stop in her tracks. 

Kirby was sitting up in bed, Montgomery a crumpled heap in her blanket-covered lap. She looked up at Fallon as she dropped her bag, her features a poorly-masked expression of disappointment. 

“Do you have to go?” She already knew the answer to the question, but couldn’t stop it from escaping her lips anyway.

Fallon softened. “You know there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you,” she said gently. She perched on the edge of the bed beside Kirby and squeezed her knee reassuringly. “I probably just have a few fires to put out, and then I’ll be back.”

“Before dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Our plans go on as scheduled?”

“Scout’s honor,” Fallon promised. “Come on, give me a kiss before I go.”

Kirby tried and failed to bite back a smile, finally rolling her eyes good-naturedly and leaning in to kiss Fallon. Reaching up to run a hand through her hair, Kirby hit another tangle, making Fallon squeak in discomfort. 

“Your hair is in knots,” she observed, carefully removing her hand. “How hard were you sleeping?”

“I didn’t have time to shower,” Fallon replied, a bit defensive. As if on cue, her work phone started buzzing against the nightstand again. She sighed, grabbing it to silence the call.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around,” Kirby repeated. “They can wait five more minutes.”

Unsure of where Kirby was going with this, Fallon started to protest, but turned around as requested. 

She could feel Kirby gently pulling her hair over her shoulders, then a shift in the mattress as she turned to grab Fallon’s hairbrush from the nightstand. 

“You check your emails like we both know you’re dying to,” Kirby instructed, gently working the brush through the ends of Fallon’s hair, “and I’ll sort out this rat’s nest.”

Fallon tried to laugh, but the intimacy of the moment was clouding her mind too much for her to focus on her emails. She closed her eyes. Kirby was making quick work of her messy hair - she’d worked through all the tangles, and Fallon could feel her fingers deftly arranging what felt like a waterfall braid. Her chest felt tight with affection, and she once again found her heart trying to speak before her mind could think the better of it. 

“Kirby, I-”

“I know,” Kirby interrupted. She pulled a pin from her own disheveled bun and tacked Fallon’s braid into place, then kissed the base of her neck. “You have to go.”

“Y-yes,” Fallon stuttered, opening her eyes and fumbling for her phone. “I have to go.”

Rising to her feet, she kissed Kirby’s forehead and snatched the tote bag with her heels from the cedar chest, then practically ran out of the room.

* * *

Fallon was fuming as she sat in her office, watching her iced coffee melt in front of her and leave a puddle of condensation on her desk. She should’ve known that this would happen. The phone calls she’d received weren’t nearly as important as they’d seemed - Blake had left Savannah without his briefcase, and was supposed to meet with a new business partner to discuss the game plan for their newly acquired parcels of frackable land. As the only Carrington in town, and the only person in Atlanta with a key, Fallon was only at the office to unlock the door and wait for Blake to arrive. She’d been there for hours, and he still hadn’t shown up. All calls went directly to voicemail, only adding more fuel to her anger. 

She was furious at being treated like nothing more than a glorified secretary, but she had to admit, the time away from Kirby had been more welcome than she’d been expecting. She didn’t know what had come over her in the past few days. She knew she liked Kirby - she’d known that for a long time - but coming to the realization that she might actually  _ love  _ her was a terrifying new avenue to explore. 

Fallon had never been the type of person to allow her emotions to get the best of her - she kept her cards close to her chest, tightly controlled, only playing them when she was absolutely certain she had a winning hand. She was never the type to move too quickly; never the one to take the next step in her relationships, lest she lose her upper hand. 

But Kirby was so different from everyone she’d ever been with before, it made her feel like her entire world had been flipped upside down. Her feelings were bubbling under her composed exterior, threatening to burst through at any moment. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could fight them back before she finally exploded. 

Sighing, Fallon picked up her phone and pulled up Steven’s contact. It had become a force of habit over the weeks since he’d been gone - dial, no ring, listen to his voicemail prompt, hang up. She was sure that when he finally turned his phone back on he was going to think she was crazy from the sheer amount of missed calls, but she didn’t care. It was good to hear his voice, even if it was just a tinny recording telling her to leave a message after the tone.

Fallon pinched the bridge of her nose, only half paying attention as she pressed the call button. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, it took her more than a moment to notice that the line was ringing. 

Fallon whipped the phone away from her ear as if she’d been burned. There had to be a mistake - there  _ had  _ to be, she’d clicked the wrong button or something - but no, Steven’s picture splashed across her screen, and in the middle of the next ring, there was a click and a soft “Hello?”

Fully convinced that this was some kind of fever dream, Fallon slowly raised the phone back up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hello? Fallon?” 

Fallon’s eyes immediately pricked with tears. “...Steven?”

“Hi-”

Fallon lowered the phone again, aggressively jabbing her finger into the “FaceTime” button in the middle of the screen until the camera connected. The picture was blurry - his end, the wifi in the office was nothing less than stellar - but Fallon still couldn’t stop from covering her mouth in surprise as she once again came face to face with her brother.

“Steven.” Her voice cracked in spite of herself, and even through the blurred picture, she could tell he was beaming at her. 

“Hey, Fal.”

“I don’t- how are you?  _ Where _ are you?”

Steven stretched out his arm, showing Fallon the headboard he was leaning against. “Hotel outside Melbourne.” He angled the camera, and a pixelated, waving Anders came into view beside him. 

“Hello, Miss Carrington,” he greeted, his standard formal tone undercut somewhat by his t-shirt and baseball cap. “My apologies for the disconnect in our communication-”

“You’re allowed to call her by her first name-” Steven chided. 

“Hold up,” Fallon interrupted, holding up a hand to stop them from the bickering that was about to ensue, “why are you guys in Melbourne?”

“Dad’s introducing me to some of the extended family,” Steven explained. Anders shifted uncomfortably beside him, but he ignored it. “We just needed some time to ourselves to process everything. I only turned my phone back on today.” He paused, looking abashed. “...Please don’t be upset with me." 

“I’m not upset,” Fallon murmured, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just- it’s  _ so  _ good to see you.”

“Fallon, are you _crying?”_

“Shut  _ up _ .”

“I’m sorry, Miss Carrington,” Anders continued. “I know it was selfish of me to keep him from you all, but… I waited quite a while for this.” He clapped Steven fondly on the shoulder. “And I wanted to be sure that Steven and I were on the same page before we came back.”

Fallon sat back in her chair, feeling her heart rate finally begin to slow back to normal. “So… you are coming back?”

“Of course,” Steven assured her. “Just a few more stops in Victoria and then we’ll be home. Maybe next week?”

“I’m sure Kirby is awfully cross with me,” Anders mused. 

“Why haven’t you called her?”

He looked embarrassed. “Why don’t I go get us some ice, Steven? Give you and Fallon some time to talk.” He got up without waiting for a response and disappeared from view. 

“Why hasn’t he called Kirby?” Fallon asked again, once she heard the door click shut.

“How do you know he hasn’t?”

“...She would’ve told me.”

There was a question written in Steven’s features, but to his credit, he didn’t ask it. 

“Fall, we’ll be home soon, okay? We’ll catch up then. We can play piano and sing old standards and drink Southsides until we can’t see straight.”

“That sounds pretty amazing,” Fallon relented. 

“It will be,” Steven promised. “Look, I’ve got to go - we have a train to catch in a little bit. I’ll text you.”

“Okay.”

“Good night, Fallon. I love you.”

Fallon closed her eyes, savoring the words and trying to imprint them in her mind. 

“Good night, Steven. I love you too.”

He blew her several exaggerated kisses, told her he loved her again, and then hung up.

Fallon sat at the desk for several long moments, staring at the phone in her hand. She knew now what she had to do. It was almost 5pm - she was running out of time, anyway. She texted Blake to tell him that the key was hidden in a bush outside, then silenced her phone, grabbed her stuff, and left the office before she had a chance to lose her nerve.    
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said it was going to have two chapters but it's going to have three i'm sorry
> 
> thank you to Sarah for beta reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Sarah for beta reading :)


End file.
